


Extant Star

by managician



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: A few minor charas show up too, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, this is me vomiting feels for 2k words please appreciate it, vaguely beta-read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 18:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16602986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/managician/pseuds/managician
Summary: Edo wasn’t afraid of Judai, he was afraid of how deep the other boy had managed to dive into his heart.





	Extant Star

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! It's me with yet another YGO one-shot. Funny and unimportant story, I sprained my ankle today so I finished this all in one sitting because I couldn't really entertain myself with anything else (and these boys have killed me). I hope the 4-5 people that may ship this enjoy it! <3
> 
> Also, shoutout to @moonlights0nata because their heroshipping stories have inspired me a lot!

Shou sighed for what must have been the third time that evening, not knowing whether to stare at his clock, to give Manjoume yet another nasty glare, or to simply call it a day and slip back into his bed.

 

Either option sounded tremendously boring, he had to admit. 

 

It’d been a mere couple of days since they’d managed to return to their dimension, after the awful experience that had been their trip to rescue Johan in the other world. They went through so many things, and they changed, but the world around them really hadn’t — everything was still pretty much the same, so it was easy to fall back into a peaceful routine of sorts.

 

Of course, everything wasn’t actually the same, Shou thought grimly. Misawa was probably okay, considering that he’d willingly chosen to stay in that dimension with the amazoness girl, Tanya. His Aniki, though…

 

Judai’s presence shined for its lack thereof. The Red Dorm had always been a place full of lively chatter and loudness ever since he showed up at the Academy three years ago, and it was impossible to deny that everything felt emptier without him, somehow.

 

The most entertaining thing of the day was his discussion with Manjoume. Every night, without fail, everyone tied to Judai in a way or another would show up and sit in the tables, staring at the empty trails, looking like a bunch of sad, lost wandering souls.

 

Okay, so maybe he was being a bit too dramatic here, but the point was, he and Manjoume just had  _ yet another _ heated argument about whether Judai was still alive or not. Manjoume had vehemently lost all hope and resigned himself to the loss of his rival, but Shou refused to believe his words.

 

After all, he still had Aniki’s own words to hold onto. He said he was going on a journey, so he’d come back. He had to. Shou felt he would, so he clung onto that bit of unreasonable hope, if only to trick himself for as long as he could.

 

Strangely enough, there was also one more person who didn’t share the same sadness and reluctant acceptance that everyone carried themselves with.

 

As if reading his thoughts, the dorm’s door snapped open, and Manjoume’s ‘greeting’ (“Oh god, not him again”) told Shou who the person standing in the doorframe was, without even needing to look.

 

Edo Phoenix was a somewhat unexpected visitor — everyone assumed that he’d just go on with his life and step back into the Pro Duelist world, with the fresh and recovered Saiou as his dear manager. 

 

And yet, there he was, faithfully showing up every evening for the past two days, always limiting himself to scan the room with a sharp gaze before sitting down next to Shou.

 

“So after two days, the moping party is still going on.” he commented casually, nonchalantly, as if he was simply talking about the weather and not about the fact that Judai Yuki was  _ gone _ . 

 

“Edo.” Asuka’s voice was soft, but her tone held a message impossible to ignore — a warning.

 

The boy shrugged and made himself as comfortable as possible in the rather low-quality chair, crossing his arms with annoyance. 

 

“Why are you here, anyway? If this ‘moping party’ annoys you so much.”  Manjoume talked back, scowling and glaring at him, though it lacked the intensity that a direct stare from him would usually have.

 

“Because not everyone here is  _ moping _ .” to prove his point, he gestured at the blue-haired student right beside him. 

 

“It looks pretty moping to me though-don.” Kenzan unhelpfully submitted his own input.

 

“I didn’t think you of all people, Edo, would hold onto such a stupid idea. I thought you were a realist.” Manjoume attacked again, ignoring Asuka’s worried gaze. He seemed to pick a lot of arguments lately, anyway.

 

“I am.” Edo nodded without batting an eye. “That’s why I’m here. I believe in Judai, which is something apparently all of you have forgotten how to do.”

 

A last pleading look from Asuka in Manjoume’s direction managed to prevent their small talk from escalating any further. He simply deepened his scowl and turned his head away, muttering some incoherent curses under his breath.

 

Edo’s attitude had been puzzling Shou a lot, to say the least. He didn’t fully understand the reason behind it. Everything that the Pro Duelist did always felt very calculated and thoroughly planned, as if he was following a bigger scheme of things.

 

But he’d been part of the small group that tried to rescue Johan to the very end. And he’d been the one more determined to protect Judai, too, out of everyone. Following the role of distantly observing events that he’d given himself, Shou noted that Edo’s carefully crafted elegant facade was finally cracking.

 

The Exodia duel happened before he had any chance to analyse his behaviour any further, and there were far more important matters to pay attention to anyway, so Edo slipped from his mind. But now that he’d stepped back into action, Shou wanted — no, needed to know what had brought the change in Edo’s heart.

 

Saying that to himself, in his own brain, was easier than carrying the deal out, though. He spent ten agonizingly long minutes fidgeting nervously on his chair before gathering up the courage to speak up.

 

“Um— Edo-kun? There’s something I’d like to talk with you.”

 

Edo tilted his head with the tiniest bit of curiosity. “What is it?”

 

Shou frantically shook his arms. “No, no, I mean. Privately. Yeah. It’s an important thing.”

 

Edo raised an eyebrow in confusion, and for a moment Shou thought that he’d reject his request, but he stood up and, after giving what seemed to be yet another judgemental stare at Manjoume, walked outside the room, with Shou following right after.

 

They walked in silence, enjoying the chilly night breeze, until Shou deemed that they were far enough from any prying ears.

 

“So? What do you want to talk about?” Edo asked, straight to the point, killing Shou’s plan of doing some casual small talk to set the mood before the blue-haired boy even had the chance to say anything.

 

“Well…” he scratched his cheek sheepishly. “It’s about Judai.”

 

The use of his actual name instead of the usual Aniki managed to grab Edo’s attention. So it was something serious. “Go on.”

 

“I… I heard him. He told me that he’s going on a journey, and I believe him. That’s why I know he’ll come back.” Shou stated, hoping that Edo would catch up with the direction this conversation was following. “But you…” 

 

“I believe in Judai too, that’s all.” Edo curtly replied.

 

“I guess what I meant to ask is… Well, everyone else doesn’t really, you know…” he trailed off, feeling more and more uncertain the more he spoke. Maybe this was a stupid thing to bring up after all.

 

“You’re wondering how I managed to keep my faith on Judai, when everyone else but you has lost it.” it was a statement, not a question, and Shou could only nod sadly.

 

Edo inhaled deeply, and Shou had the feeling that he was readying himself to confess something important.

 

“Judai helped my friend.” he started, with the softest voice that Shou had ever heard from him. “And he taught me a lot of things. I want to help him as well, to repay the favor, and I think that the best thing I can do now is have faith in him.”

 

The clenched fists and slow mannerisms should’ve told Shou that something was off about Edo, but he was too focused on the boy’s words to notice those small details. And it was dark outside, anyway, so if he wanted to notice them, he should’ve been looking for them beforehand.

 

The Ra Yellow student mused to himself for a bit before nodding, seemingly satisfied. “So you wanted to help him out of gratitude.”

 

“Yes. Is that all you wanted to ask me?”

 

“Pretty much.” Shou admitted, smiling shyly. “I know it was a dumb question, sorry.”

 

“Not at all. I understand that, since you took it upon yourself to look after Judai from afar, you feel more doubts now than ever, so it’d make sense for you to want to understand everything you can.”

 

Shou stifled as soon as Edo mentioned it, the painful memories no doubt rushing back to his mind. Edo barely had time to mutter an apology before Shou excused himself, running back to the Red dorm.

 

Edo sighed. They were all back, but everyone was still in a very fragile state of mind, trying to move on as best as they could. No one was an exception to that.

 

Not even Edo himself, no matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise.

 

He smirked humourlessly, opting to plop himself down on the road and admire the starry sky, full of twinkling and flickering lights. The beautiful sight actually managed to make him feel at peace and, for a moment, he was able to forget about Judai and about how much he feared him.

 

Well, fearing  _ Judai _ wasn’t the proper way to word it. Ever so strict, he forced himself to correct the sentence so that it reflected an actual truth.

 

Edo wasn’t afraid of Judai, he was afraid of how deep the other boy had managed to dive into his heart.

 

He’d genuinely believed it was a mere friendship born because of the eternal gratitude that Edo would feel towards Judai for saving his dear friend Saiou from the clutches of the evil light. It was the rational explanation, the logical one that Edo had wanted to believe, and believed at first.

 

But that didn’t explain anything, not at all. It didn’t explain the pure sadness, the anguish he’d felt as he learned that Judai had fallen prey to his own darkness. Most of them were trying to save him, and if Edo truly simply wanted to help him back, he could’ve just tried to support and comfort him after his normal self came back.

 

And yet, it was more than that. Edo didn’t want to  _ just _ help Judai.

 

As they rested on a lone hill from the other dimension, as he changed the wet towel to check Judai’s temperature, carefully brushing soft strands of chocolate hair aside, Edo’s heart was pierced with a much deeper feeling.

 

He wanted to  _ protect _ Judai. He wanted to keep him entertained with soft talk until all the pain and guilt plaguing his mind vanished entirely, wanted to keep him close and make him feel safe, wanted to do everything and nothing at the same time, because really, as long as Judai was okay, it was enough.

 

Edo really couldn’t bring himself to admit it. He couldn’t say that Judai, just by being Judai, had slowly managed to tear apart the walls that Edo’d been putting up for so long, from the very day his father died to the very day he lost the duel with Echo’s life at stake.

 

He’d slipped once, just one time. As Exodia was about to launch his attack on him, about to  _ kill him _ , the last thing in Edo’s mind was to save himself. Instead, he’d stepped in front of Judai, ready to shield him from anything — from a damned Sealed God, if he needed to.

 

It scared Edo so much, so, so much. Because he knew that if he was given a choice, if he could pick between running away to save his own life, and losing it to protect Judai’s — the outcome wouldn’t change. He’d still throw himself in the way of danger to keep Judai safe.

 

The truth was too overbearing. He really was afraid, afraid of this intense feeling that hadn’t left him ever since he started looking at Judai in a different light. He didn’t know how to control it, how to remotely deal with it.

 

So it was no wonder that he’d ended up like everyone else, walking inside the Red dorm every evening, hoping that one day or the other, Judai would step inside and joke around as if nothing had changed.

 

In a way, he knew that he  _ needed _ Judai to come back. He wouldn’t be able to hold himself together if he didn’t. There was simply no way for Edo to go on if the one that managed to bring out his gentle, fragile, emotional self betrayed him by never coming back.

 

In fact, hadn’t all his life been a betrayal after the other? DD and Saiou — all the people that he cared for  _ had _ used him for their own benefit. Why wouldn’t Judai do the same? What’d make him different?

 

Edo didn’t know, but trusting Judai felt as natural as breathing. No matter all the evil things he’d done as the Supreme King, to him, Judai had still been Judai to the bitter end.

 

And that wasn’t about to change now. If he didn’t come back, Edo would probably close himself off again and never trust others, and he probably wouldn’t be able to forgive him, but…

 

“You’d still be Judai. And I’d still… I’d still love you.”

 

He felt as if he’d just placed a heavy burden on his shoulders by saying it out loud.  _ Love _ — it seemed like such a strong word, too inappropriate to use, but even with Edo’s massive knowledge of vocabulary, no other word would have conveyed his feelings any better.

 

He doubted that he’d ever be able to tell the truth to anyone else, much less to Judai himself. 

 

But as long as he could keep looking over Judai, he’d be okay. It was all that mattered.

 

He slowly repeated the words in his head, knowing that they held nothing but the truth. It was the truth that he needed to get used to.

 

Feeling tired all of a sudden, despite not having done any physical exercise, Edo laid down, with small patches of grass tickling his neck. He stared at the sky for a few minutes, as his eyes gradually struggled to stay open, and before closing them entirely, he could’ve sworn he saw a shooting star approach him.

 

“I guess I can try believing on miracles, just this once.” he whispered to himself before slowly falling asleep.

 

_ Please come back soon, Judai. _

 

A few minutes later, two pairs of eyes were now facing up towards the sky, while a hand gently played with silver locks of hair in the quiet moonlight gleam.

 

“I’m home.” a voice spoke, warm and full of fondness. The words were but a hushed whisper, in order to not wake up the other boy, but they could still be heard, and they carried so much meaning all the same. “I’m back, Edo.”


End file.
